


The Villain Therapist

by FlyingWerecats



Category: Wander Over Yonder (Cartoon)
Genre: Aftermath, Antics increase exponentially, Based on several Tumblr posts, Dominator is gone but she left scars, EA is mildly inappropriate but are we really surprised, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, May branch off into other fandoms if I run out of villains to therapize, Reader is 1000 percent done, Reader unintentionally becomes the emotional support of every villain they come across, Reader-Insert, Reference to past traumatic experiences, Why Did I Write This?, You were minding your own business how did this happen, gender neutral reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-27
Updated: 2018-04-27
Packaged: 2019-04-28 12:27:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14449275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlyingWerecats/pseuds/FlyingWerecats
Summary: You honestly just wanted to eat your sandwich but this works, too.Villains need therapists too, and this galaxy sure has a LOT of them.





	The Villain Therapist

It started at Bloyd’s.

In hindsight, you would have expected Hater to be the one moping around a dinky diner hitting on single patrons, and yet there you were... staring deadpan at the biggest Dude-Bro you had ever had the misfortune to meet.

“Is that the best you got?” Your brows didn’t even twitch. You were just too fed up to be bothered with raising them at his antics.

Honestly it wouldn’t have been so bad if it weren’t for the rotten day you’d been having... well. Rotten _month,_ more like. Rotten... life? Man, you couldn’t even say anymore. You were just tired.

You’d been in this galaxy for four months. _Four. Months._ And in that time you’d befriended two nomads, settled into a nice, if dull planet and a nice, if dull routine at a local restaurant, fled that job _and_ that planet as both were destroyed, hidden on a nearby hunk of rock, and watched as Dominator was finally defeated only to do it _all over again._ Really. Wander and Sylvia had been nice enough to help you resettle on one of the recovering planets, but it was only a matter of time before some halfwit horror showed up to ruin it all and send you packing, all in the name of their stupid _leaderboard._

Whose bright idea was it to make domination a _competition_ anyhow?!

Whatever. And now, on top of everything else, your friends who were _supposed_ to meet up with you had bailed to go _“save the galaxy!!”_ from the newly restored _“awesomest evildoer!”_ and you were left here, alone, too drained to muster indignance at the sharkman’s antics.

He couldn’t even get your _name_ right. You’d corrected him _twice_ in the past _8 seconds._ And the _space pants_ gag? ‘ _Out of this galaxy?’_ _Please._

He had at least enough dignity to look appropriately dissatisfied as you pointed out the cliche.

“Tch. ‘Course not! I save the best for... _private use._ ” He winked. You had just enough energy to scrunch your nose in the faintest expression of disgust.

“Too powerful for the public, huh?” Grop. Even _you_ couldn’t tell if you were being sarcastic.

“With great power comes great responsibility. And these guns-“ he flexed. “-are _weapons of mass destruction~_ ”

_Dude, seriously? In front of my sandwich?_

You continued to stare at him as you weighed your options. Stared so long, in fact, that he coughed uncomfortably into an oversized, disturbingly-humanoid fist. You made your decision.

You dropped a stack of bills on the table, confident that the alien behind the counter knew a “keep the change” gesture when he saw one, and headed for the door.

“Fine! Your loss, babe! Hope you like being home alone on a FRIDAY NIGHT!”

You groaned as the doors swung shut behind you. That was _exactly_ what you wanted right about now... to be _home_ in your own apartment, where maybe you’d be able to unwind after a soul-sucking shift at the local tourist trap, away from the bustle of society. You wanted _peace and quiet,_ dang it!

But of _course_ that hadn’t been the end of it. After nearly 10 minutes of trying to hail a cab your arm was tired and the UBoard app on your phone estimated a half hour waiting time before any drivers became available. You did the math. It’d be at least an hour before you hit the star currents. Might as well wait in the diner.

 _Maybe he left,_ you’d hoped desperately. _Or maybe he found someone else to pick on._

_...Or maybe he’s picking at what’s left of my sandwich._

_That... that pointy-toothed punk! That self-centered, loud, gaudy, obnoxious..._

_...lonely, thieving, self-conscious, depressed-looking..._

_..._

_Aw, dang it._

_Syl’s never gonna let me live this down. I just hope Wander’s proud of me... doin’ this for you, buddy..._

You stared at him until he looked up from flicking a stubborn bit of lettuce from the table.

“What d’you want,” he grumbled. _Good. No delusions of a change of heart._

“You ate my sandwich.”

“Tch. You came all the way back in here for a stupid _sandwich?_ ”

You shrugged. “UBoard’s busy.”

“So call a _cab._ ”

“Can’t. The universe hates me.”

He raised his head to squint at you, unsure how to read your expression. You mentally balked as that same self-satisfied smirk began to reform on his over-rouged lips. _No. Absolutely not. No._

“Well hey, if you need a ride we could always take my limo out for a spin, and-“

“ _No._ ”

“Ugh. Whatever. Do whatever you want.”

 _I plan to._ That’s what you should have said. You knew that, so why didn’t you? Instead what came out of your mouth was...

“Wanna... _talk..._ about... it?”

 _Yikes._ It sounded forced even to your ears. You winced. He noticed.

You barely managed to get out of the way as the table crashed to the floor. A large, tanned finger was jabbed under your nose so quickly you went cross-eyed before you could process it.

“ _I don’t need your flarping pity.”_

Well you couldn’t get any more dead than you already were... right?

_Remember me fondly, Fuzzball._

_And Sylvia... avenge me._

You stood your ground with all the preservation instinct of a camper facing a bear... most likely about to be mauled by said bear. You held his gaze while you franticly discarded comebacks in your mind, trying to find something that might salvage the situation.

Apparently this was a waste of precious energy, because after a few tense moments his shoulders slumped and he pushed past you, mumbling under his breath or maybe just snarling. It was impossible to tell. Bewildered, your body followed the motion to see where he was going. He slid into a booth behind you and proceeded to fix the window with the same unfocused glare you reserved for warding off small talk on public transit.

Your gaze drifted back to the space where your table had been. The alien behind the counter was making a _cut it_ gesture over his neck, but you were in too deep to back out now. Instead you ignored his sensible implied advice and slid onto the cushioned bench across from Awesome.

You had admired the seats while you’d waited for him to open up or throw you out, picking for loose patches and finding none. In fact, every surface of Bloyd’s was immaculate due to its recent reopening... _one of the benefits of rebuilding, I guess._

He growled. “There’s nothin’ to talk about, okay? Now leave me alone.”

That wasn’t exactly the response you’d been hoping for, but then you weren’t sure what else you expected. You hummed as you scanned the diner for an icebreaker.

You recognized another villainous figure in the form of Hater’s skullship, which was printed across a piece of poster paper and emblazoned with flaming letters. It looked like an announcement of some kind, plastered against the wall behind the counter. Probably another one of those parties, you figured. Hater had thrown a lot of those in the wake of his post-Dominator success, although the frequency of the gatherings left you wondering how long such infamy could last, financially speaking.

“Looks like there’s another party at Hater’s place coming up. You gonna go?”

He _snarled._ “Why the grop would I wanna hang out with _that_ loser?”

_Whoa. Sore spot. Is that a good sign or bad?_

“...” You seemed to recall something that _might_ just save you here, and decided to go for it. It turned out to be a wise decision. “Didn’t you two ‘rage’ together once?”

“ _Pfft._ Yeah, _once._ I let the try-hard tag along on one of my all-nighters, so what?! That doesn’t make us _bros._ Just because I hung out with him doesn’t mean I care about his _lame_ parties or his _stupid_ ship!” Both fists slammed into the table for emphasis, and you self-consciously braced your hands against the table, trying not to look like you were bracing for another tantrum while doing exactly that. _It’s bolted to the floor,_ you reminded yourself. Exactly as if it would do any good against a space shark with body builder arms.

_The risk I took was calculated..._

“I dunno,” you shrugged, sounding far more nonchalant than you felt. You nodded at the poster. “His parties seem popular to me...”

_But man, am I bad at math._

**“He’s _not even a real VILLAIN._ ”** _SLAM._

You succeeded in suppressing all but the mildest of starts, and found yourself blinking helplessly as he just... word-vomited into your lap.

“ _He’s just an awkward wannabe dork with electric powers who shows off for ATTENTION._ I mean, what can he do that my _limo_ can’t?! He’s like some brooding teenager who dove into a _bathtub_ with a _toaster._ ” **_Snrk._** _Okay. Props for the insults. Still a dude-bro, though._ “How the grop did _he, of all people,_ manage to defeat D-d-d-duh, d-d-DoMINAAAH- _that lava lady?!_ Everyone knows the one-eyed freak is the real brains of his so-called _‘empire,’_ ” he made finger quotes, leaning back into his seat. Your relief was short-lived. “And speaking of empires,” he half-stood over you. “Sure, he was at the top of the leaderboard for a _while,_ but he couldn’t even do _that_ right! Just watch! He won’t even be in the top 10 in like, two weeks! I just don’t see what the big deal is, okay?!”

You silently agreed with him. The Hater Empire had been in decline long before Dominator began her campaign of destruction, and the few blips of comebacks they had managed to pull off had come dangerously close to flat-lining soon after. Honestly, you had given credit to Wander for that one... the hate that fueled his conquests was bleeding dry. Hater could never be the villain he once was as long as he was fixating on something _other_ than villainy, and his nemeses had made themselves impossible to ignore. At half-power and distracted, what threat could he possibly pose?

...On the other hand, the galaxy was weak. By destroying so much territory, Dominator had effectively wiped the leaderboard... and with the scores reset, a galactic free-for-all commenced in the power vacuum she left behind. Hater and his Watchdogs had quickly regained the upper hand. It wasn’t like they had faced much resistance.

Awesome slumped back into his seat, looking less like an Emperor and more like... well, a disgruntled 20-something dude having a fit in a diner. Before you could finish processing his outburst he’d gone on in an exasperated tone. “I just don’t understand why everyone’s so into Hater all of a sudden. He’s a _loser,_ and he’s always gonna _be_ a loser. They’re wasting their time.” Then, under his breath: “His parties aren’t even good.”

You stared at him. _Oh, boy. Where do I start?_

Slowly, trying to work out what you wanted to say without offending him, you asked, “Is it... the parties themselves that... bother you, or... just Hater in general?”

“I dunno, both?” He tried to shrug away the unhappy confession, but you weren’t buying it. “I mean... he doesn’t even rave! He only plays rock music... have you heard his theme song? ‘Cause if you go to one of his parties he’ll play it every, like, _four songs._ It’s like, _dude,_ seriously? Give me something I can dance to! How do people stand this stuff?!”

 _You have a theme song,_ you thought. _I mean, the entire rant was hypocritical but you do very much have a theme song. It has fewer words, but it’s just as obnoxious._

“Is it... _Hater_ that’s bothering you, or...” One look at his face told you he probably wasn’t ready to hear what you were saying yet, so you dropped that line of thought. “You know what? Nevermind. What about your own parties? You throw a lot of parties, right?” Come to think of it, you hadn’t heard much about them lately. “Or you used to...” Fewer planets seemed to be destroyed these days. One of the only _good_ things to come out of the aftermath of Dominator’s rampage...

“I still do!! What, have you been living under a rock?! I’ve thrown _tons_ of parties! Just last week, I blew up New Byredon! And the week before that I trashed New Sirona 3! Do you just not pay attention?! Watch a flarping news program!”

You blinked. “I mean... watching the news isn’t my favorite thing to do. I mostly skim the headlines. I do keep up with the leaderboard, though.” _And you’re only #25 at the moment, so..._

If truth be told, you _did_ keep a pretty close eye on the news. But your news typically came from mass texts sent out by Sylvia to keep everyone posted on the duo’s fights against evil... and they hadn’t tangoed with Awesome since rebuilding began. You’d figured he was laying low, doing some rebuilding of his own. And you guessed 25 _was_ in the top half, so you weren’t _wrong._

“You know, now that you mention it, I _do_ think I remember them mentioning Byredon... Sorry, _‘New Byredon.’_ ” You made finger quotes.

He snorted. “Yeah, it’s annoying putting ‘New’ in front of everything. It’s like, _we get it. It’s new. Everything is._ ”

You wholeheartedly agreed. “Can’t we all just agree that the ‘New’ is _implied_ and move on with our lives? _We get it. It was destroyed. Now it’s back._ ”

“Exactly!!” He gestured to the wall, indicating the diner. “At least Bloyd’s is the same. Bloyd’s gets it.”

“Bloyd’s never changes.”

“Right? It’s the only reason I still come here. I could be on my own limo right now getting served Sironian chicken over rice.” He leaned over the table. His _grin_ was back. “You ever had Sironian chicken? You know, my personal chef is a _miracle worker_ with spices...”

“No thanks...”

“He also makes a mean smoothie if those are more your thing...”

“ _No thanks._ ”

He shrugged. “Eh. You’ll come around.”

_I won’t actually._

“So.” _The universal topic changer. A classic move._ “Aside from the... planet-ending parties and all... what have you been up to since the whole...” You made a wrist gesture to fill in the pause as you rephrased what you’d been about to say. “Lava Lady episode?”

The shift in demeanor was immediate, but he didn’t flinch the way he had when he’d said her name.

“ _Psh._ I mean, I know you don’t watch the news, but _come on._ You said you’ve been watching the leaderboards, right? Haven’t you seen the planets I’ve been racking up?”

“Oh, I saw. And I kind of figured you’d been rebuilding your empire and all, I just meant... uh...” _Shoot. What DID I mean?_ “What have you... been up to? Lately? In your... personal life, I guess?” You wondered, for one frenzied moment, if he even _had_ a life outside of planet-ending and parties.

“You’re sendin’ me some pretty mixed signals there, babe.”

“ _Please. Don’t._ ”

His hands went up in defense. “A’ight. I get it. I’m just saying. A guy could get the wrong idea when you start taking an interest in his ‘personal life’ like that.”

“I _meant_ your _hobbies,_ or... I don’t know! Do you even have hobbies?! What do you even DO outside of villainy?!”

“What, you implying I’m all work and no play?” He winked. “Nah, babe. I got LOTS goin’ on in my freetime! There’s hittin’ the gym, pickin’ on nerds, pickin’ up _ladies~_ ”

You gave him your best blank stare. He caved.

“...And I even go bowling sometimes.”

“Bowling?” You’d never have pegged him for the type.

“Yeah, my grandma used to rope me into it. Not as fun as _real_ sports but I’m obvs good at it.” He flexes unnecessarily.

“Huh. I never would’ve guessed that.”

“See? There’s a lot you don’t know about me. _Now, if you wanna find out..._ ”

“ _Stop._ ”

He rolled his eyes but let it go. At least he knew when to call it quits... sort of.

“Anyway... what do you wanna know for all of a sudden?”

You shrugged.

“Just... curious, I guess. I mean I know about the dancing and the parties and whatnot. Just didn’t know anything else about you. It’s called making conversation, Fishstick.” You froze. You hadn’t meant to say that.

“...”

“...”

“ _Pffff,_ dude, _what?_ ”

_Oh, thank stars he didn’t kill you._

While you admit that getting laughed at is preferable to being the victim of manslaughter, it was still aggravating to listen to.

“You... you sure you didn’t mean to call me fish _d-_ “

“ _Nope. Nope. Absolutely not. Don’t you DARE finish that sentence._ ”

He snickered.

Disgruntled, you waited for him to calm down before steering the conversation back towards your original goal.

“So... you seem have taken the whole rebuilding thing in stride.”

“Sure. What’s your point?” _Oh no he’s on to you._

“Nothing, just... thinking. That must’ve been hard for you. You were one of the villains that got captured by... her. Right?”

“ _Everybody_ got captured. It wasn’t just _me._ You trying to imply something?!”

“What, no! I was just... making conversation.”

“ _Sure_ you were. What are you, my therapist?”

You blinked.

“You have a therapist?”

“’Course not! Therapy’s for wimps who can’t handle grop on their own.”

“I don’t think that’s true. Lots of people need help now and then. Healing is arguably more difficult than-“

“Whatever, I’m _FINE._ Why do you wanna talk about it so badly?!”

“Because...” You hesitated.

Why _did_ you?

“Because you’re not happy.”

“...”

He broke eye contact first, to your relief. He glared out the window and grumbled, “why do you care?” The words were hostile, but most of the fight had bled from his voice. “You don’t even know me...”

“I want to.” You swallowed. “Maybe that’s enough.”

 “...” Just like a villain to go down swinging. Even when it’s not a fight. “Crop, you’re as bad as the furball...”

“His name’s Wander.”

He squinted at you. “Hey... how do you know the furball?”

“Okay, 1. who doesn’t? 2. how do you think? And 3. don’t look at me like that. I promise you I’m not up to any _shenanigans._ ” You wiggle your fingers in a haphazard representation of the chaos those two can cook up. “They’re not even... well. They were _supposed_ to be here, but then they bailed on me. To go chase Hater around.”

He leaned his head against a fist and snorted.

“She ditched you, too?”

_She...?_

“If you’re referring to Sylvia, she pretty much goes wherever he goes. So... basically, yeah.”

“Dunno what she sees in the furball. Why would anybody choose that furry spoon over _all this?_ ” He gestured to himself with his free hand, looking smug.

“They’re best friends. She’d choose him over anyone.”

His sneer gave way to another smirk.

“What about you? Who would _you_ choose over anyone?”

“My jellyfish.”

His smirk faltered.

“Is that... like, uh... some sorta...”

“It’s literal. My pet is my best friend.”

“Dude. That’s sad.”

You shrugged.

“Matter of opinion.”

“No, dude, that’s like... all kinds of sad.”

“Works for me.”

“You could at least come to one of my parties and make some new friends. I’ll even get ya an invitation.”

“No thanks. I’m not big on parties.”

“ _Dude. You’re bummin’ me out._ ”

“I have friends. I just prefer to stay inside.”

“ _Stop._ You’re gonna make me depressed.”

“I don’t think secondhand depression is a thing.”

“It is now!”

You rolled your eyes. “I’d rather be home with my jellyfish than getting hit on at Bloyd’s.”

“Well hey, if instigating’s more your thing then be my guest~”

You just stared at him.

“...You’re no fun.”

“Maybe you’re just not funny.”

“ _Please._ I’ve made tons of ladies laugh!”

“Why, did you flex?”

“Psh. Don’t diss the flex, brah. You see these pecs? Ladies _swoon_ for a piece a this!”

“From the smell, maybe.” A small smile pulled at the corner of your mouth.

“Oh, what do you know? You’re a shut-in.”

“True.”

He’d turned in his seat by this point and had begun to side-eye you.

“So, uh... are you a chick or a dude?”

You arched a brow. “Does it matter?”

“Nah, but it’s hard to tell with some species. You ever been to Nylon 7? They got a _fine_ fashion sense, but there’s no way to tell ‘em apart. Until you get under the skirt, that is.”

“Thanks. That was disgusting.”

He shrugged. “Whatever you got down there, I bet I can please it~”

“Please never let your mouth form those words ever again.”

“I’m just sayin’, even spore people like a little recreational smoochin’ on the side...”

“ _Please never repeat any of the noises you are currently making ever again. Thanks._ ”

“Heh.”

“Seriously though. How are you holding up?”

“Ugh. This again?”

“I told you, I want to know. I want to help.”

“I don’t _need_ help!” He glared at nothing over the booth. Or maybe he was glaring at some poor sod trying to enjoy his lunch, what did you know. “’m just tired, is all. Lefty’s been getting on my case about it for weeks now so I don’t need you lecturing me, too.”

“Can’t sleep? Too much Thunderblazz?”

“Eh. Maybe. Never stopped me before. I usually just party ‘til I pass out, but Lefty’s been all over me for that, too. You’d think he was my _mom_ or something.”

“’Lefty?’”

“My right hand man.”

You smirked. “What happened to Righty?”

“ _We don’t talk about Righty._ ”

_Whoa._

_Okay._

_No idea what happened there, and not gonna pry._

“Okay. Sorry. Uh... you try sleeping pills, or some warm milk...?”

He snorted. “Tried it. Doesn’t work. Pills and parties don’t mix, brah. Trust me. There are few instances in life in which I can say I know better, and that’s one of ‘em. The ‘Blazz doesn’t react well to drugs.”

“I mean. You’re not supposed to combine sleeping pills and caffeine. That _defeats the purpose._ ”

“What, you never crashed from the ‘Blazz before? That’s the _best_ way to sleep! One minute you’re having fun with your bros, and the next you’re wakin’ up next to some ladies~”

“Probably covered in their puke, too.”

“True party gals can hold their Thunder.”

“I’m sure they can. Doesn’t make it any safer as a lifestyle.”

“Safe is _lame._ Jeez, you really gotta leave the house once in a while. I’m the one true party animal and you’re harshing _my_ vibe.”

“I’d rather be alive and safe than surrounded by sweaty strangers. It really doesn’t bother you at all? You could choke to death, or... something!”

“I could get blown up by a laser, too. Look, nobody becomes a villain so they can _stay home_ and _play it safe!_ ”

You guessed he’d had a point.

“That’s fair. To each their own. Still doesn’t explain why you can’t sleep though.”

“Maybe I just don’t need to sleep. Maybe I’m the party god incarnate and the party don’t stop~”

“Or maybe you just don’t _want_ to sleep.”

He glared at you.

_Hammer, meet nail._

“Sleep is boring. Nothing ever happens while you sleep! I’m an active guy! We can’t all be shut-ins with no life!”

_That’s my name, don’t wear it out._

“Dreams happen.”

He cringed.

_Dead center. Perfect shot._

“My _life_ is a dream! I’m _Emperor Awesome!_ ” He did some sort of... dance pose? You weren’t sure what that was. It involved kicking and some kind of fist pump. “The galaxy’s _numbuh one superstar!!”_

_Gee, where have I heard THAT one before?_

“Look, we’re both adults here. Or... at least one and a half of us is.”

“ _HEY!_ ”

“So let’s cut to the chase... you’re having nightmares, right?”

“Gh... Am not!!”

“You can’t party if you don’t sleep, Awesome. Don’t you want to be your _awesomest_ for the crowds?”

“Well whaddaya want me to do, huh?! I can’t control it!!”

He immediately looked older and more haggard than before. He’d even slouched over the table, glaring pitifully at the counter. The cashier dropped out of sight. You wondered how often this sort of thing happened for a Bloyd’s employee to react that quickly.

“Have you tried addressing the _cause_ of the nightmares?”

“They’re not _nightmares,_ alright, I’m not a _kid!_ ”

“ _Unpleasant dreams,_ then.”

“...”

You could almost physically _see_ his guard drop just a little more.

“...How should I know what the cause is? They’re just dreams. You’re not one of the weirdos who try to predict stuff with _dream journals,_ are you?”

“A dream journal isn’t a bad idea. Keeping one could help you figure out what the common thread is between dreams. Unless... you already know what that is?”

“If you’re trying to imply something, spit it out! I ain’t got all day!”

_You’d think a villain would be a better liar._

You sighed. “Look... I don’t know if you’re having different dreams or a recurring one, but I do know that you can’t even say her name without flinching.”

“Whose name?! D-du-du-dUH-DOMINAHHHTAHAHA?! I can say it just fine!!”

You sympathy-cringed.

“That hurt to watch.”

“What did, me saying D-DOMINAAAAAHH-“

“ _Stop._ ” You held up a hand. “Look, it’s fine. Nobody got out of that without scars. Scars are cool, right? Just think of this as a... mental scar.” He scowled. “And right now it’s... inflamed, or infected. It needs to be taken care of. You don’t have to do it right _now,_ but... maybe it’d help to talk to somebody about it? It doesn’t have to be me. It could be your second in command, or a professional, or even a complete stranger, if you prefer.” You mentally apologized to the universe in advance, just in case he elected to terrorize strangers with his problems for that one. “But you’re never going to recover if you just... pretend it isn’t there. It’s called ‘post-traumatic stress’ for a reason. It’s kind of a big deal.”

He mumbled something unintelligible, probably another denial.

“Like I said, you don’t have to do anything right away. Honestly, if you want short-term answers you could probably give those sleeping pills another try. Use them _properly_ this time, though! If you can get a prescription, I’m sure there’s meds that’ll knock you out without dreams. Or you could poke around some shops for a more mystical solution. There’s probably a sleep guru out there _somewhere._ I mean, I ran into a hummingbird guru once. Anything’s possible.”

“Pff. _Hummingbirds?_ ”

“I mean, I _assumed_ that’s what he was! I couldn’t actually make out any signs for all the _birds!_ He may have just been a flower person under siege and I left him to suffer. That’s also a possibility.”

You pursed your lips while he laughed, but couldn’t help your own smile from showing through. “Oh sure, laugh at my accidental cruelty, why don’t you.”

“You know, you’re alright! For such a shut-in.”

“Thank you.”

He visibly stifled a yawn.

“Hey, if you’re not doing anything tonight, maybe-“

“ _Again?_ ”

He put his hands up. “Not a date! Not hitting on you, just thought maybe we could hang out, hit the club, have some drinks... you’ve obviously never been to a _real_ party. I can teach you to let loose! What do you say?”

“No thanks. I don’t need a ‘rage teacher.’ I really just want to go home.” The genuine disappointment on his face was not lost on you. “No offense, or anything. It’s... it’s been a long day.”

“Tell me about it,” he mumbled.

“Yeah, and speaking of long days... you’re looking pretty tired yourself. Clubbing and caffeine are the last things you need right now.”

“What are the first things?” He grinned at his own joke.

“You could give sleep a try.”

“Ugh...”

“That bad, huh?”

“It’s not even that bad! I _lived_ through worse!” He cringes and bangs his fists on the table. “Nothing even _happens,_ I just _wake up_ before the bad stuff!!”

“Bad stuff?”

“...It’s none of your business.”

You hummed. “True. If you don’t wanna talk about it I won’t press you. It just sounded important, is all. It sounds like the anticipation is the part that’s bothering you.”

“ _Great._ What does that mean.”

“I guess it means you’re waiting for something. Something bad.”

“Tch. Yeah, right. The battle’s _over,_ D _lost._ ”

“Sure, but she’s still alive.”

“She’s not coming back.” He shrank even as he said it, and his voice pitched embarrassingly high. You tried very hard to ignore it.

“No. Probably not. Have you tried telling your subconscious that?”

“I don’t listen to myself when I’m _awake._ ”

You laughed. He smiled a little.

You heard the telltale _ping_ of your phone and pulled it out.

“Sounds like my UBoard driver’s on their way. It’s about time.”

He stretched, and you cringed and the popping noises he made. He didn’t seem to notice. Or maybe he just didn’t care.

“Yeah, I should probably head out. Lefty’s gonna throw a fit if I hang around here too long. He acts like I’m just gonna pass out on the sidewalk or somethin’.”

“To be fair, you look like somebody who would pass out on a sidewalk.” You didn’t look up from your phone. You were too busy typing.

“And you look like a nobody working a dead-end job and getting stood up by friends on a Friday night.”

“Touché.”

He laughed and stood up, stretching again.

“I still say it’ll be a nicer ride if you let me drive you home.”

“And have you know where I live? Nice try.”

“Suit yourself.” He shrugged. “See you around, I guess. Wait, what was your name again?”

You rolled your eyes, but against your better judgement, you told him.

“Thanks. It was nice talkin’ to ya.”

He cracked his neck last, and you made an audible sound of disgust that dragged another smirk out of him. He turned towards the exit.

“Hey.”

Against your better judgement, you held out your phone, contact already labelled as “Shark Week.” He started to grin that _stupid, smug_ grin again and you pulled it back from his grasping hands. “Don’t get any ideas. This is just for if you... have any more dreams, or whatever.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He rolled his eyes and snatched the phone, leaning on one hand while typing with the other. You were starting to get suspicious when he tossed it back. It clattered across the table and nearly spilled over the side before you caught it. By then he was already halfway out the doors, laughing. _Obnoxious jerk._

...Yep. He’d changed his contact name to “Party Bae ;)” and had taken the liberty of texting himself an incriminating _hey there, hot stuff. ;)_ You huffed and rolled your own eyes.

 

_Clever, but I like mine better._

_Party Bae ;): Whatev. u’ll cme aruond._

_Oh my Crop. That hurt my brain to read. Why would you do this._

_Party Bae ;): Have u never texted before or are u just that uptight._

_I’m changing your contact name. You can’t make me read this anymore. I can’t do it. I won’t._

_Shark Week: Noooooo._

_It’s too late, it’s already done._

_Shark Week: Ughhh. urs is dorky tho._

_Yeah, but it doesn’t have a dumb smiley face in it._

_Shark Week: wut this 1?;)_

_Ugh._

_Shark Week: ;) ;) ;)_

_UGH._

_Shark Week: What’s wrong? ;)_

_UGHHH._

_Shark Week: ;)?_

_BITE ME._

_Shark Week: wHOA didn’t know u were in2 that. ;)_

_How could you make me read this with my own two eyes._

_Shark Week: lol. ;)_

_BLOCKED._

_Shark Week: Nah u ain’t gonna block me bro. ur obvs 2 in lv w me._

_What language are you even speaking right now._

_Shark Week: ;)_

_UGH._

_Shark Week: lol. L8r nerd._

_Shark Week: ;)_

_UGH JUST GO._

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to make a spin-off based off of this character, story, or concept, don't even ask! Just do it! (And link me so I can read it and love you forever!)


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